


Snack Time

by Well_of_Eternal_Thirst



Category: Mortal Kombat (Video Games), Mortal Kombat - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Pre-Burned Kabal (Mortal Kombat), Smut, Snowball Fight, domme reader, submissive Kabal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 02:54:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30015021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Well_of_Eternal_Thirst/pseuds/Well_of_Eternal_Thirst
Summary: You and Kabal are enjoying a calm winter day. A snowball fight and a warm shower later, things get... Spicy.
Relationships: Kabal (Mortal Kombat)/You
Kudos: 4





	Snack Time

You can find this fic and additional Kontent on my Tumblr!

[Well of Eternal Thirst](You%20can%20find%20this%20fic%20and%20additional%20Kontent%20on%20my%20Tumblr!<br%20/>%20wellofeternalthirst.tumblr.com/)

* * *

You don’t know who started it, but there you were. Crouched in the snow, hiding behind a bush and giggling like a kid while preparing a row of snowballs to hit your boyfriend who was making the worst attempt ever of hiding behind the wall of your house -you could even see his boots peeking from behind it!-. With a smirk, you get up and with your arms full of snowballs you sneak towards your lover’ hiding spot while trying to hold in your giggles at the thought that you probably like a silly cartoon villain now, tip-toeing to catch the hero by surprise.

The “ _got you!_ ” gets caught in in your throat as confusion takes over at the scene in front of you: Where he was supposed to be standing, there’s only his pair of boots. What…? Before you even have a chance of reacting, you hear a “Gotcha!” behind you, and you are being tackled by a large body. You give an undignified squeak as you lose your balance but Kabal turns your bodies over so you fall over his now laughing form.

Furrowing your brows, you try glaring at your boyfriend, trying to stay annoyed at the dirty trick but his laughter is too contagious and soon you both are a laughing pile on the snowy ground. It takes minutes until you both manage calm down enough to speak, and you playfully smack his chest as he gets up on to a sitting position and pulls you to his lap with your back flushed against his chest as he bends over you, trying to put his boot back on.

“Kabal! I can’t believe you took your shoes off!” you say as you move to sit across his lap and lean your head against his shoulders. He beams at you and kisses the top of your head before cradling you in his arms and answering.

“In love and war everything goes, princess. Even more if it means my prize is getting you in my lap like this.” He purrs, and closes his eyes humming happily as you start running your hands up and down his chest over his shirt, wiggling on the spot to help you open his jacket wider to get more access to him.

“Winning? Don’t count your chickens before they hatch, love!” you smile devilishly and without another word, you grab a handful of snow from the floor and dump it inside his shirt and almost immediately, a large wet spot starts forming on his shirt as the snow melts against his warm skin. His fast metabolism still surprised you. He was like a portable furnace -and a blessing to your cold feet- during the winter. Summer wasn’t all that fun, though. The way his eyes and jaw pop open in shock is hilarious and you can’t help but start laughing all over again despite your now sore belly.

“Oh no you didn’t” He glares playfully at you, wringing the dampness of his shirt.

“O- Oh yes I did! In love and war, yada yada.” you answer still trying to fight the new fit of giggles, but you sober up fast enough when he smirks and one of his hands grabs you by the waist and the other grabs a fistful of snow. You start squirming to free yourself, but his grip is firm and he is way stronger than you anyways. You hiss when you feel the cold ice sliding down the inside of your jacket. “So is it war that you want?” you say as he chuckles, already reaching for more snow to dump on him.

You go back and forth on this for a while and eventually it delves into a play wrestling that only stops when you start sneezing. When you try complaining about not being cold, your lover only shakes his head, smiling, and picks you up bridal style to carry you back home. Your protesting die fast as you feel his body warmth seeping into your body trough your now wet clothes. He manages to open the door and get you both inside without releasing you and keeps his hold all the while walking around your shared home, grabbing the fluffiest towel available and drawing you a bath. He cuddles and cover you in smooches while the tub fills with water, and only releases you when he tells you to take your time and he’ll be waiting for you in the kitchen with a cup of warm cocoa and some snacks.

You undress and close your eyes, sinking in the delightfully hot water, letting it wash away the lingering cold your family-sized heating pad boyfriend didn’t manage to. You smile as you think how did you get so lucky. Who would ever say that the mean looking mercenary you bumped into during a mission two years ago would be this loving partner? The man was practically a cuddly teddy bear, loving to hold you whenever possible, and treating you like a queen since the beginning of your relationship. Took you a while to get used to the way he would spoil you rotten with exquisite gifts, homemade tasty food (at least once he learned how to not burn down the kitchen while doing something as simple as boiling water), endless affection and… High quality affection. But you couldn’t be happier if you tried.

Still, it took you by surprise sometimes how he never stopped wooing and courting you every second he got to spend by your side. It was everything you could expect from a lover, really. Well, except for the hook swords and speedster nature. Those were an unexpected addition.

When hunger got to you and the water got more cold than warm, you got out of the tub and made your way to your bedroom, choosing to throw over your body one of his old band shirts that were scattered on his -messy- side of the wardrobe, Kabal was taller than you, but this particular shirt barely reached the middle of your thighs, and you suspected he bought this one especially for you -given your habit of ‘claiming’ his shirts for yourself-, but still it smelled of him, and it made you happy enough.

Nearing the kitchen, you hum in delight as the smell of toasted bread, herbs and spiced chocolate hits your nose. When you reach it, your mouth waters for a reason completely different to the food laid over the table: His back was to you, and gray slim sweatpants that hung low on his hips were the only thing he had on his body. You didn’t even try to stop your eyes from running over the lines of his broad frame, mesmerized by the way his muscles danced under his skin as he taste-tested whatever it was that he was making for you both.

A different kind of hunger made itself known in your body as you leaned against the door frame, your fingers tingling with the desire to run the tips of your nails over the expanse of his back and up to his scalp the way you knew he loved, just to get him to look at you with the same hunger that was growing in the apex of your thighs.

You softly bite your lips to keep in any sound you want to make and close your eyes slowly as your boyfriend mumbles something under his breath and stretches up his arms, giving you a great show of his biceps. Dirty thoughts and memories of the times he made you sink your nails on them as you two made love.

As always, he didn’t even notice you standing there. It always amused you how focused he could get on with tasks, and coupled with how at ease he was at home? Your speedster could be oblivious to whatever was going on outside of his immediate bubble. And you took full advantage of the fact, appreciating the little show he was unknowingly putting on. He finally notices your presence when you let out a soft groan -as the throbbing between your legs becomes too much-, turning around with that grin that never fails to make your heart speed up.

“Y/N! I didn’t hear you come in babe, snacks are almost-” the words fail him when he registers how little you are wearing as well as the way you are staring at him. He’s seen you aroused enough times by now, the heavy-lidded eyes, the way your chest is rising and falling as you breath trough your slightly parted lips, your thighs squeezed together, and the hunger burning in your eyes right now is enough to start the fire under his skin.

He then smiles cockily, one brow raised as he leans back at the countertop, crossing his arms over his chest and flexing for you. The smile grows when your eyes follow his moves, hungrily swiping over his forearms and biceps. The sight of your tongue tip wetting your lips is enough to make the warmth start pooling on his lower belly.

“May I be of help, love?” despite his relaxed pose, his voice sounds huskier than usual, as he is unable to hide the fact of how he’s eager to give in to your unspoken demands.

You approach him slowly, enjoying how his eyes watch your every move, and how he grows slightly breathless as he takes a better look at you, swallowing dry as his eyes land on your chest and he notices how your hardened nipples pushing against the light fabric. When you finally cross the floor his hands are grasping the countertop as he makes himself more available to your touch, knowing better than to make a move to touch you.

And this is another thing that surprised you in this relationship, when you first got intimate you’d fully expected a big guy like him to be the one to be more dominant between the sheets, but it was not the case. He sure had his moments and would take the lead when you didn’t feel like being on top but, unlike some past lovers, he never once complained about the fact you like taking the reins of things most times, encouraging you on doing it instead.

“Oh, you sure can…” you say, putting one hand on his jaw, making him look at you, while the other goes on his chest and you softly rake your nails down his abs, watching in delight as goosebumps raise on the wake of your touch as your lover shudders, his gaze shifting from cocky to lustful in a heartbeat as his body arches into your touch to chase more of the caress on his skin, encouraging you to keep going. You do, pressing your hand along the side of his body, enjoying the feel of solid muscles flexing under your palm as Kabal tries to focus on staying still so you can keep doing as you please without interruptions.

As reward for the good behavior, you pull him down for a deep kiss that he readily reciprocates humming as the taste of something sweet coats his lips and tongue, and as your hand cups the front of his sweatpants you smirk on the kiss when his hips involuntarily buck for you, pressing his heavy arousal against your palm. “So willing to please,” You praise him in a teasing tone and snorts as he eagerly nods his head up and down before leaning in for more kissing, to what you step back and with a big smile and playfully wink before asking him “So why don’t you make a favor to your beloved and grab me the syrup? I’m really craving a snack right now but I’m short and can’t reach it, you know.” You almost feel sorry for his disbelief at your sudden change of subject, but instead you only smile, batting your eyelashes at him and trying to look cute.

“Anything for you babe, which flavor do you want?” he answers with a slightly strained voice and a tight smile, before adjusting himself in his now straining pants and turning around to reach for the cabinet.

Now that he’s in position, you resume your tormenting by hugging him from behind and softly biting the skin where his shoulder and neck met, and he gave you one of these deep long moans you loved, but as he started to turn around to face you again you stopped him “No, love” you said, pressing your breasts against his back and reaching one hand to squeeze his thigh “Keep your hands up.” With a deep breath, he conceded, resting his forehead against the cabinet door and resting his forearms over his head “good boy.”

You keep teasing him over his sweatpants, touching him all over his thighs, chest and abs, purposely avoiding the place he needed you the most and getting some wicked satisfaction from seeing his hips rutting hopelessly against the air whenever your fingers ghosted the top of his inner thighs. You drive him to his limits before pulling away all the physical contact, leaving him leaning against the countertop, muscles shivering and knuckles going white as he fights the urge to throw you over his shoulder and speed to your bedroom so he can have his way with you.

“I want the chocolate syrup.” You say, giving him a peck in the cheek. He grabs it faster than you can blink, and turns around to face you with so much hunger and lust in his eyes you swear you can feel his heat smoldering over your skin.

“What do you plan to eat, love?” his voice is so low and husky and dripping with desire, and it sends pleasurable shivers down your spine when you realize how much control you came to have over this man. You didn’t even need to tie him down to bed for him to stay still this time. With a sweet smile, you approach again and take the syrup bottle from his hand and trail kisses from his neck to his ear before pushing your body flush against his.

“You. You’re the only snack I’m plan to devour as soon as you sit down on that chair-” you don’t get to properly finish your sentence before you are looking at the wall and hearing the sound of a chair scrapping across the floor, and turn around to see a beaming -and already pantless- Kabal sitting on it, making you laugh out loud at his eagerness.

You shake your head as you take your time making your way to him, putting a whole show of swaying your hips to entice him a little more. You stand in front of him, between his spread legs while tapping a finger to your chin, thinking before opening the bottle and letting a generous stream flow over his chest and thighs. Satisfied with your ‘topping’, you give in to the crave that has been killing you softly since you stepped trough the door.

You get on your knees and hear Kabal softly muttering “oh sweet fuck” under his breath before taking a sharp intake of air and biting his lip the moment your tongue makes contact with his skin. You take your sweet time making your way down his chest, tracing every muscle of his abs and diligently licking away the dark streaks of chocolate.

The sweetness mixed with the salt of his skin made an addicting cocktail of flavor on your tongue, further fueling your need and fogging your thoughts with lust to the point that nothing else existed beyond the man writhing under your touch, the lust filled moans leaving his lips and the desperate throbbing between your legs. He’s breathless by the time you reach his crotch, and you feel like cackling like a cartoon villain when you jump the place he is dying to have you to start licking from the end of his thighs to make your slow way up.

By the time you run out of places to lick, your lover is a sweating, swearing and heavy breathing mess in the chair. And he is dripping like a damn fountain, the proof of his arousal flowing freely from his thick cock. You look up and squeeze the top of his thigh to make him look at you, and when he does, you hold his gaze and licks the underside of his cock, from his heavy balls to the tip, swirling your tongue around head, before sucking him inside your mouth.

You’re sure the moaned curse that leaves his lips is easily the best sound you ever heard in your life, and repeat the move just for a repeat, only to watch as his eyes nearly roll back as he releases a colorful stream of words.

“Y- You’re killing me…” he pants, gripping the back of the chair with one hand as the other clutches his dark locks to avoid pulling your hair. His hips start bucking erratically as you increase stimulation, sucking on the head and jerking him off at the same time, and when you see his balls getting tight and his breath becoming ragged, you know he is near, and does the only reasonable thing in the moment: You get back to your feet, his mix of whine and moan at the sudden loss of contact pure music to your ears.

“Oh my, but how selfish of me! Feasting to my heart’s content while you have nothing to eat.” You sit on the table and get rid of your shirt, spreading your legs and giving him a clear view of how much you want him right now. His eyes fixate on your glistening cunt with an almost feral look on his face, making you chuckle in delight over his eagerness “Please, do eat all you can h-” his mouth is on you before you can finish your phrase, throwing your legs over his shoulders and lifting your lower back from the table as he looms slightly over you, surrounding yourself with him in a way.

The way he eats you out is not the careful and gentle way he usually does, this is all unrestrained hunger and you are sure he is using his speedster nature as you feel his tongue moving so fast over your clit you could take it for a damn good vibrator. It is absolutely glorious. While him mouth works your cunt, his hands roam your body and the calluses covering them add a unexpected but delicious texture to the touching as he squeezes, caresses and massages you all over, before settling on teasing your breasts and nipples with a defty hand while the other firmly grasps your hip to lock you into place. Not that you’d ever dream to escape the delicious torment he’s putting you under, and soon enough you’re reduced to a writhing pile of sweat, moans and curses as he relentlessly edges you until you are sure you’re going mad. Oh how the tables have turned.

He finally gives you what you’ve been begging for and you squeeze his head between your thighs when your orgasm finally hits you, shamelessly riding his face as the waves hit and overwhelm your senses. When it finally ends, you instantly relax your legs, afraid you may have bruised him in excitement. Relief and a renewed wave of lust wash over you as you look down to see his face glistening in the best way possible as he looks up at you with wild eyes and a near desperate expression, mindlessly grinding against the edge of the table in search of some relief from his aching cock.

Unhooking your legs from his shoulders, you scoot to the edge of the table until his cock is trapped between you both, and it spurs him on, his grinding becoming more frantic as you pull him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue as your nails dig on his nape and scalp, making him whimper in the kiss and soon enough his hands are squeezing your so firmly you’re sure it is going to bruise but you can’t find it in yourself to care about it right now. You come up from the kiss to take a breath and hold his head between your hands, looking straight in his eyes.

“Fuck me. Now.” He nods eagerly, pulling you to the edge of the table and letting you lean down before aligning your hips and sheathing himself inside you in a single move that makes you release a shouted moan. He immediately freezes letting you adjust to him -although he’s a pretty average length, but oh boy he’s thick like a soda can-, his whole body is trembling with the restraint it takes for him to not keep moving, his face buried on the crook of your neck as his teeth sink softly on the column of your neck as he focus on keeping still.

You squeeze your walls around his girth to let him know you are ready for him to move and he releases a strangled moan at the sudden feeling, and starts moving, slowly and deep at first to make sure you’re ready, before going still again, both hands holding your waist as he’s buried as deep as he can get inside you. You furrow your brows in confusion before he raises his head from your neck to look at you with concern, speaking between deep breaths.

“Y/N, I won’t be able to be gentle, I’m too worked up to hold myself”

“Good.” You answer, squeezing him by the chin with one hand -his worry is touching, but the frustration over his lack of movement talks louder- “Because I didn’t ask you to make love to me” you pull his face down for a heated kiss and he groans against your lips, you can feel his cock throbbing and twitching inside of you “I told you to fuck me.”

“As you wish, my queen.”

And fuck you he does, pounding so fast and hard against you that even though you’re clinging to him with your legs crossed around his waist and hands holding on to his thick forearms, his grip on your hips is the only thing really keeping you in place. It doesn’t take long before his rhythm falters and his grunts fill the air, his hips thrust a last time before he clings to you, a growl leaving his lips as he comes deep inside.

You barely have time to come down from the haze of the first round when he starts getting hard again, and you smirk down at him as he starts to cover any skin he can reach in soft bites and smooches -you learned long ago that your boyfriend recovers mighty fast and will always be ready for more before you can really catch your breath-.

“Of course, how inconsiderate of me, to leave my princess neglected like this.” He beams at you, before kissing your forehead and withdrawing from you.

“Not so fast, Speedy. I remember you promised me snacks. And while you are a very tasty one, I didn’t get to fill my belly with anything” You say, smirking at him with a raised brow.

“Oh, so now I’m only your princess? Minutes ago I was your queen. I’m appalled at how easily you demote me.” You answer in mock outrage, putting a hand to your chest in shock.

“My oh my, how could I ever make it up to you?” Kabal is clearly doing his best to not burst into laughter at your antics, making a poor voice acting of a pompous English majordomo.

“I have a few ideas. You’ll need the whipped cream this time. And the strawberries. Meet me in the royal chambers as soon as you can.”

You laugh out loud as you watch him speed off, and run towards your bedroom before he can run past you.


End file.
